


Journey's End

by eris_kyrall (kereia)



Category: Wendy Trilogy - S. J. Tucker (Song Cycle)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kereia/pseuds/eris_kyrall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The decision to go back home had not come easily to Wendy Darling, and the hardest part of it was saying goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journey's End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladypoetess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypoetess/gifts).



> Dear ladypoetess,
> 
> this is not the fandom on which we were matched, but I fell in love with these songs as soon as I heard them. Thank you for introducing me to them. I would never have found them without your letter.
> 
> Happy Holidays. :)

“Yield,” Green-Eyed Sue demanded and nudged Micheal's chin with the tip of her cutlass.

Though the lost boy was bound tightly to the mainmast next to his equally unfortunate compatriots, he met her gaze defiantly. “Never,” he replied.

“Very well, you scurvy miscreant. If you will not yield, then I shall cut you from navel to nose.” Her blade dipped to his belt and rose back up to his face in a fluent, well-practiced motion. In doing so, the sun glinted off the folded steel, briefly blinding her. With a slights grimace, Sue adjusted the angle of her wrist.

“You and yours were soundly beaten. It is time to negotiate for your freedom.” A mischievous gleam entered her eyes. “ **If** Peter Pan wants you back, that is.” She turned, forestalling Michael's affronted protest. “Captain, what shall we do with them, should Peter decide that they're not worth his trouble?”

Upon the quarterdeck, Red-Handed Jill swept off her Captain's hat with bold, dramatic flair. She pressed it to her chest, a facetiously sad expression on her face.

“Why, Sue. They will have to walk the plank, of course. We can ill afford to feed a dozen hungry lost boys, when we have a dozen hungry lost girls here as well. Pirates one and all, who deserve a victory feast for their bravery in battle this day.” Raising her voice, she spread her arms wide to encompass her entire crew. “Do we not, my fellow pirates? Victory is ours. And to the victor fall the spoils.”

Three cheers rang up from the rigging and upper deck, and cutlasses were raised in salutations.

Every Saturday the lost boys and lost girls threw themselves into a skirmish against each other, hearts racing, eyes gleaming, and the curses of past sailors on their lips. The battles were hard fought and either heroically won or tragically lost. A day of triumph or abject failure, which never-the-less always culminated in a vast, opulent feast prepared by few, but shared by all. The yielding party prepared a buffet for the victors, and the sun set upon their voices raised in somewhat off-tune harmony as their songs rang through the dark hours of the night.

But Michael had not quite resigned himself to preparing dishes and, worse, washing them, just yet.

“Though we may not have brought honor to Peter Pan this day, we will live to fight on. Until then, pirates, I tell you this: Do your worst. Your blades, your captain, your ruthless threats; they do not frighten me. For I am a lost boy of Neverland, and I will die before I yield to pirates.”

“Well said,” a voice approved from atop the rigging, and, as one, lost boys and pirates raised their heads towards the cloudless sky.

Hanging headfirst from the ropes, like a bat, his arms crossed casually, was Peter Pan. A grin broad on his face, he dangled to and fro as he surveyed their colorful assembly.

“It almost makes up for your disgraceful defeat,” he added, and the lost boys hung their heads in shame.

Stepping back, Sue looked to her Captain for guidance on how to proceed, but Jill seemed oddly distracted. A wistful smile was cast upon her face, a shadow of sorrow which fleetingly colored her every gesture and glance.

“Captain?” Sue called out, suddenly worried. It was an emotion she had thought long forgotten, and though she shied away from donning this now unfamiliar cloak, it settled heavily upon her shoulders, its weight bringing memories of half-forgotten days.

Sue had gladly left her life behind when Peter Pan had beckoned through her window pane. A cold floor beneath her feet, rules and duties down below, but above their heads a vast and star-filled sky with endless possibilities beyond. Never had a decision come more easily for her.

A pirate's life provided few comforts, but amenities could not be weighed against freedom, certainly not in this place where time could not be measured in hours. Wonders chased each other through ocean and sky, and pixies danced beneath the moonlight. Neverland was a wild and feverish dream made real by every heartbeat of lost children as they found their true self reflected in deepest waters and polished steel.

As Sue had shed the worries and restrictions that had corseted her before her great escape, she had vowed never to let fear and apprehension touch her heart. But now one look at her dearest friend, her captain and sister-in-arms, sent a shiver of foreboding down her spine.

“Captain?” she repeated when no answer was forthcoming.

Murmurs rose among the pirates and their captives. Bewildered glances marked this change in script. But with a shake of her head, Jill's posture straightened, and she boldly raised her head.

“What will you give me for your brave fighters' safe return?” she called out, pointing her blade at Peter up above.

Though he cast a worried frown her way, Peter held fast to the plot. He dropped to the railing, his feet dangling in the air.

“Well, you are a sorry lot,” he said as he pondered his motley crew. His stern gaze rove along the bound figures at the mast. “I'm not altogether sure that I want you back at all.”

Heaving a tragic sigh, he stepped upon the deck. His hands laced behind his back, he balanced from his toes to his heels and back. “However, a leader never abandons his men.”

With a smart turn, he addressed Red-Handed Jill and bowed.

“Good captain, I admit defeat, though it pains me to say it aloud. And I offer for their safe return a night of song and dance, of cakes, ice cream and ciders. That we may celebrate your victory and plan our re-match next Saturday accordingly.”

A grin upon her face, Red-Handed Jill curtsied among the raucously cheering crowd. “I accept your terms. You have until nightfall to prepare our feast.”

Winking at Michael, who seemed slightly put-out that Peter had stolen his thunder, Sue slashed through the ropes binding him and and his friends. Michael rolled his eyes, then shrugged with a resigned smile.

“My last Hurrah,” he said quietly. “I would have preferred it to end in victory.”

Laughing, Sue placed her arms across his shoulder. “Last Hurrah, indeed, silly head. You will get your chance next week.”

Slipping away from him, she absendmindedly patted his back, for her eyes sought her captain, who stood still and tense next to the helm.

Sue's heart clenched as she made her way up the stairs to stand next to her sister. For indeed, sisters they had been in all but blood from the first day that Jill had offered her a place among her crew.

Many tales they'd shared by candlelight, sailed storm-tossed seas and blackest skies, rode with Titania among the fair folk and swum with mermaids through the coves. They'd climbed mountains next to lost boys, and explored the caves below. Adventures forged their bond of sisterhood, tempered by affection, a meeting of two like minds that lived their dreams with no thought of tomorrow.

“Are you alright?” she asked Jill, her hand gingerly touching her captain's arm.

A wan smile ghosted across Jill's mouth, and she grasped Sue's clammy hand.

“My brothers and I must speak to Peter before he leaves for shore, but worry not, sister dear, I will explain all in due course.”

Her words were accompanied by a short, firm squeeze of her hand, and then Jill slipped away, a fond look of reassurance on her face. She gathered her brothers to her and beckoned Peter to her cabin.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun was about to dip below the horizon – a great, red ball of fire which appeared to sink into the sea, swallowed by the undulating waves of the tide.

A strong wind tumbled through Jill's hair, her blond locks flying about her face as she braced herself against the roll and pitch of the vessel below her feet.

How she was going to miss this.

For a moment her chest felt too tight to draw air, and the sting of tears made her close her eyes.

Even now that her decision was made, there was a part of her that didn't want to leave, a part that wished to stay ageless forever, wiling the days away sparring with her friends, flying with Peter and laughing with Sue until the moon yielded to the sun.

But lately her eyes had strayed toward the sky, searching for one particular star. And though it shone no brighter to her eyes than any other in the night, it burned inside her heart. In her dreams it lighted familiar rooms, now hopelessly far away. A place she'd once called home, and people she had called family,

With every day and waking night, the longing inside her had grown to return to London, and though she regretted the loss of freedom and ceaseless adventures that filled her days, in her heart she had known on the day when Oberon and Titania had named her admiral of their fair fleet that this chapter of her life was coming to a close.

New shores awaited her. Adventures and challenges of a different kind waited to be mastered, and amongst the sorrow of loss grew the conviction that she could meet these challenges head on. With pride, a strong will, a cool head and a steady hand, she would shape her future. She had hesitated for a long time, and only when the first shivers of anticipation had lit her spine and drowned out her apprehension to leave all that had become beloved behind, had she known that she was ready.

It was time to become Wendy Darling once again.

To her surprise, her brothers had agreed with her when she had broached the subject and with a lighter heart, they had braved breaking the news of their imminent departure to Peter.

Peter had not tried to change their mind. Instead, there had been a knowing air in the way with which he had regarded them – a wistfulness borne of experiences and long years well beyond his physical age. And it was in that moment that Jill had finally realized that no one stayed a child forever.

With a sigh, Jill mentally shook herself out of her revery. Her crew had long departed for the shores of Neverland, and only she and Green-Eyed Sue remained.

Pushing her hair out of her face, Jill waited for her friend to emerge from below decks. There was a question she had to ask her sister, though she dreaded the answer. For Jill was already certain as to what Sue's answer would be. And the fear that she might leave more than Neverland, her ship and Peter Pan behind weighed heavily on her heart.

At last, a curly mop of red hair emerged from the stairs as Sue hurried onto the upper deck.

“Ready to go?” Jill called out.

Bouncing with barely suppressed energy, Sue threw her head back to let her hair fly in the wind. “Almost,” she said and swung herself into the shrouds.

“What are you doing?”

Without slowing her pace, Sue climbed the ropes of the mainmast. “Don't wait for me, Captain. I shall meet you in the boat,” she shouted gleefully.

Jill put one hand upon the handle of her cutlass and placed the other at her waist. “Well hurry up, or there will be nothing but crumbs left.”

Upon receiving nothing but laughter in response, Jill threw up her hands in fond exasperation. With a last look aloft, she climbed into the small boat which would see them to shore.

Grasping the oars, she looked up and spied Sue balancing upon the main sail's yard. Her hands held fast to the halyards, and even from this distance, Jill could see her friend taking a last deep breath.

Grinning, Jill pushed off the ship with one of the oars.

“Go on then, you knuckled-headed daredevil,” she called to Sue. “I will scrape you of the ship, should you fail to clear the deck. “

With an ululating cry, Sue ran along the last feet of the yard and jumped into the air. For a moment she seemed weightless, suspended between earth and sky, but then she plunged towards the sea, her body a straight and gracefully line that disappeared beneath the waves.

Seconds later, Sue resurfaced with a gasp, pushed her hair off her face and swam towards the boat.

“You'd scrape me off the ship?” she groused as soon as she was within shouting distance.

Jill gave her her sweetest smile. “I'd consider it my sisterly duty,” she replied.

“Truly, that is very kind of you.”

With a muffled curse, Sue reached the boat and tried to hoist herself across the rim. The constant pull and push of the waves around her turned this into a task of considerable difficulty.

“My kindness knows neither limit nor restraint, my dear.” Jill teased as she grasped Sue's upper arm to help her along.

Too late did she see the devilish gleam in her friend's eyes, and only when Sue's fingers curled around Jill's belt, did the pirate captain perceive the danger in which she dwelt.

“No. No, no, Sue, wa...”

But all pleading was for naught, and across the rim she fell, headfirst into the sea.

Sputtering, she emerged from the salty waves, curses flying from her lips. Sue regarded her with unrepentant glee. “That should teach you not to call me a knuckle-headed daredevil."

Glowering, Jill pursed her lips, and in a moment, she attacked. Splashing water into her first mate's face, she bridged the distance with two strong strokes to push Sue cheerfully below the waves. Her maneuver successfully executed, she beat a fast retreat.

And so it was that two pirate girls cavorted in the sea, while their boat, unheeded by both, drifted far away.

Each attack was met by swift reprisal, until breathless, cold and weary, they held each other above the waves until they reached the shore.

They collapsed upon the still warm sand and watched the sky turn from blue to black – the fading sun leaving starlight in its wake. Song and laughter drifted towards them from afar. The feast had begun.

“Will you tell me why you were nearly crying when I came on deck?” Sue finally asked, still catching her breath. She sat up and crossed her legs to rest her elbows on her knees.

Jill turned towards her. “I've been thinking a lot about home lately.” She hesitated briefly. “Do you remember yours?”

Sue regarded her for a long moment before turning her gaze towards the endless sea.

“It wasn't a happy place,” she said quietly. Then she bit her lip and continued. “It wasn't a bad place, either. It was just...” she stopped seemingly struggling for words. “...small. And it became smaller every day.”

Jill nodded in understanding.

Every additional candle on her birthday cake heralded the arrival of more rules she was expected to follow, more expectations she was supposed to fulfill. It had chafed, this realization that her life became less and less her own.

"Don't run, don't shout, don't fight, don't dream. Your head does not belong up in the clouds." She remembered her mother's words all too well.

At the time, the prospect of growing up had seemed so very daunting. Stepping off her window ledge to follow a flying boy up into the sky had been frightfully easy by comparison. A promise of adventure and wonders beyond her wildest dreams had seemed infinitely more appealing then learning how to comport oneself as an adult, shackled to rules and restrictions.

But Jill had grown far beyond the restless girl who had grasped Peter's hand that night. She was a pirate, now. Captain of the Jolly Roger, Admiral of the fairy fleet, a lost girl who had found herself, and made her own rules. And at some point, while learning how to wield a cutlass, sail a ship, and best Captain Hook, she had begun to realize that once you learned all the rules you also learned how and when to break them.

This realization fostered a new kind of curiosity. A curiosity that allowed for the possibility that maybe growing up wasn't quite as bad a she had feared, that maybe there came a point when once's world ceased to shrink and one was able to expanded it through one's own devices and push it beyond, far beyond, the scope of her childhood. That **she** could make it bigger... if she dared.

And finally, Jill had realized that she **did** dare. Indeed, she dared very much. Had she not proven it time and time again without being fully aware of it? How else had she become a pirate captain of far and wide renown?

“Do you ever think about going back?” she asked Sue quietly.

Sue laughed mirthlessly. “Whatever for? I'm a pirate, now. A **pirate** , Jill. I sail the sky and seas. I fight side by side with my friends and go to bed every night with a smile on my face and this ridiculous bubble of joy inside my heart. I get to fly with Peter Pan and sing sea shanties with the lost boys and my pirate sisters. Every day there is something new to discover, And every night I sleep among friends. The Jolly Roger is my home now. I will call no other place by that name.”

Jill swallowed down a heavy lump of sorrow. The question she had not dared to ask had none-the-less been answered.

Sitting up, she offered her had. “Well said, sister. Well said, indeed. Now, let us join our crew and friends and hope they've set aside some morsels for two hungry sailors."

 

* * * * * * * * *

 

The Jolly Roger hovered above the rooftops of old London town, and Sue didn't like it. Not one bit.

The victory feast had lasted well into the night, but upon their return to shore, Jill had ushered her brothers into the boat, and bid Peter to fly ahead. And no sooner had they disembarked on the Jolly Roger, had she issued the order to weigh anchor.

Though surprised by this unexpected turn of events, the pirate girls had sprung to, loosened canvas and turned the ship towards the stars.

Guided by starlight, the vessel had risen above the swell of the sea, and even though Jill had refused to give any explanation, Sue had her suspicions as to how and where tonight's journey would end.

Her suspicions were proven correct as chimneys and gables appeared below their even keel – a vast cityscape half drowned in fog.

“Shorten sail,” Red-Handed Jill commanded, and the topmen began to pull up the heavy canvas.

“You're leaving, aren't you?” Sue asked, her voice thick with emotion.

To her credit, Jill no longer sought refuge in silence. “Yes, I am,” she admitted, and sounds of dismay rose among the crew.

“You would abandon your crew?”

“You can come with me.” Jill smiled sadly. “If you want to.”

Turning to her crew, her voice rose.” You can all come with me. We all shared stories of our lives before Peter brought us to Neverland. Many of you have given voice to their longing to have a family to call your own, and I do not wish to leave any of you, because you have become **my** family, and we belong together. I know my parents. I know their hearts, and their capacity for love. My parents will be parents to you all, and their roof will be your safe harbor if you want to come with me.”

As Jill spoke, Sue's gaze swept over the assembly, taking note of a few defiant eyes among the hopeful smiles. For a fleeting moment, she was tempted by Jill's offer, but then her eyes dropped to the world below, foggy, cold and dark. Then on they swept to masts and sails and the myriad of stars.

Listening to her heart, Sue found her answer deep within its steady beat.

“It's sooner I'd lay down my life than leave this ship behind.” she shouted out her conviction, and scattered cheers rang out from the crowd below.

“I did not think you would.”

Taking off her hat, Jill proffered it to her. “So be captain in my stead, “ she said. “With my compliments to Titania and Oberon. They will not find a better admiral in all of earth and Neverland.”

Peter, who had watched the exchange silently from atop the rigging, saluted Jill. “It will be done. Depend on it.”

Sue hesitantly brushed her fingertips across the hat, fighting tears with every breath. Her chest was tight, too tight to breathe, but Jill had more to say.

“Do not forget me, sister dear. Promise me you won't.”

Taking a shaky breath, Sue raised her eyes, and pulled her captain into a fierce hug. Though their paths would diverge, their friendship would live on. And every night when they looked to the stars, they would know that somewhere beyond the night one sister was thinking fondly of the other, remembering adventures and laughter assured by the knowledge that family can be found in every corner of the world.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The line: "It's sooner I'd lay down my life than leave this ship behind." is a quote from the third part of S.J. Tucker's Wendy Trilogy.


End file.
